leading people astray since 2004

Permit me to respond to your searches, Part 3.

 

My heading is actually a song lyric from the Whiskeytown song, "Hard Luck Story."

 

You've come to the right place, but alas I have no answers.

 

Because you aren't attracted to him.

 

If it's wrong, then I don't want to be right.

 

Help for a burnt out law student:   Take a long weekend.  Skip a class or two, get out of town, visit people who knew you before law school, read the paper or a book or do something else that you just don't have the time for in law school.  You have to do it.  Get out of town.

 

Don't date a guy who quotes Friendster.  What a tool. 

 

 

why I love being an attorney

1) I had an altercation with a client in the hallway of the courthouse today. After I spoke with her, her parents spoke with me separately, discussing their concerns regarding her legal interests and mental health. The entire time I was speaking to her parents, I was doing all I could not to openly gawk at the necklace that my client's father was wearing. He was wearing the largest gold figurine of a woman receiving oral sex from a man that I have ever seen. It's probably the only gold configuration of people having oral sex that I've ever seen, but it was larger than I would have imagined such a thing would be, if you had described it to me. And it was hanging from his neck on a chain.

2) I was speaking with a client about a domestic argument that escalated into threats being thrown back and forth, and while explaining what happened he said, "You know, it was like, [insert client singing first few sentences of female pop song here]. Like that." Please imagine yourself in my shoes, my suit, my briefcase, my courthouse, in this conversation, and having your male client unexpectedly belt out a pop song as a way of describing how he came to be arrested. Quite accurate, but unexpected nonetheless.

This is the best freakin' job in the world.

it's one of several things.

1.  I've watched too much american idol, I'm burnt out.

 

2.  I've watched too much karaoke.

 

3.  or, American Idol is just not very good or entertaining this season and is just "really good karaoke" as Simon said.

on being a public defender: take trial advocacy

I had a DA object to my objection today.

I made an objection, the judge overruled my objection, and the DA objected to my objection. Didn't oppose my objection. Objected to it. And then refused to accept the judge's "Overruled" (in response to my objection) as an answer. The judge continued to tell the DA to stop, but the DA just REALLY wanted to keep going with his 'objection.' Finally the judge said sternly, "MR. JONES. I ruled in your favor. Stop while you're ahead."

object away

I had a DA object to my objection today.  Didn't oppose my objection.  Objected to it.

 

I made an objection, the judge overruled my objection, and the DA objected to my objection, and then continued to try to explain why.  The judge continued to tell the DA to stop every few words, and the DA just REALLY wanted to keep going.  Finally the judge said sternly, "MR. JONES.  I ruled in your favor.  Stop while you're ahead."

thinking

I want to be in a relationship.  I want to be married.  I want to start having babies.

 

but I'm not.  and I'm pissed.  and insecure.  and wondering, why not?

RIP O.C.

Behold the end of an era.

race against the clock

This week the Supreme Court decided Wallace v. Kato, in which the Court determined that the statute of limitations for a federal 1983 civil rights claim for false imprisonment / false arrest starts at the time one is detained in that criminal proceeding.

 

Let's flesh out the logistics of this.  Now, being a defense attorney, my attention always begins at the initial detention of my clients, not when the cops say they are 'under arrest.'  Here's a common hypo.  My client is walking down the street with two people.  The police approach, ask them questions, and keep them there until an eyewitness drives by, unbeknownst to my clients, while they are pressed up against the wall.  Then the police ask them to come down to the precinct with them.  They go.  That takes an hour.  After 12 hours of 'conversation' the police then place my client and two others under arrest.  Another 36 hours or so later, my client meets me and sees a judge who sets bail in the amount of $500,000.

 

My client, not having half a mill kicking around, stays in jail for motions, hearings, discovery, and finally, trial.  The DA isn't ready for trial 3 times in a row, I am not ready for trial once, the judge isn't ready for trial the next two dates because there aren't enough jury panels available or because he's on vacation or whatever.  Assuming this is indeed a 'speedy' trial, the soonest that I begin voir dire will be at least a year from the day I met my client.

 

My client is convicted based on one eyewitness.  My client is sentenced to, oh, let's be nice and say 8 years.

 

Over the course of appeals, it turns out the DA never turned over all that stuff that is constitutionally required to be turned over to the defense but almost never is.  Let's say, oh, the fact that someone else's DNA was recovered from the scene.  The intermediate state appeal took  8 months and was denied.  The final state appeal took another year and hallelujah, his conviction is overturned.  I'll eliminate any federal appeals time here for the purposes of brevity, which no doubt would have tacked on another decade or so.

 

So.  When does the statute of limitations start to run?  The analysis that makes the most sense to me, for a false imprisonment case, is to start running the statute of limitations from the date of the decision rendering the imprisonment false .

 

The Supreme Court does not agree and even expressly rejects that rationale.  The Court in this case clearly lays out that the suit starts running at the END of the alleged false imprisonment.  That makes sense - how can you sue for false imprisonment while being falsely imprisoned?  The false imprisonment ends, essentially, as soon as a client makes his first appearance, arraignment, bail hearing, etc.  As soon as a judge sets bail, the false imprisonment is over.  In my hypothetical, my client was 'falsely imprisoned' for 48 hours.  As soon as he saw the judge who slapped him with $500k bail, he had two years from that date to sue for false imprisonment.

 

The absurdity of this rule is that many clients won't even be CONVICTED by that point.  And if they are convicted, either rightfully or wrongfully, their appeals process will not be finished.  JUST IMAGINE how many civil suits, with a significantly lower burden of proof, will be outright dismissed on summary judgment motions based on a conviction alone in the trial court!

 

And furthermore, after my client has been in for 3 years, half of it pre-trial, half of it post-trial, the only thing he gets to sue for is that first 48 hours.  (Further detention must be remedied through a malicious prosecution suit, virtually impossible to win, I would guess, considering there are still DAs in the world).

this. this is why I cry at night. or drink.

I have a client who is being charged with drug possession and resisting arrest.  This is a pretty common 'bullshit' fact pattern, where a client is stopped for no reason, searched, then arrested for contraband, and then charged with resisting.  These cases are a dime a dozen. 

 

This case in particular haunts me becaue my client can't take a plea.  Even if he could, it's crystal clear to me that this officer is lying.  Lying, lying, lying.  My client is innocent, the cop made it all up, and how in the world am I going to convince a jury of that?

stabbing heartache

I hate that it matters to me, every day, whether you look at me or greet me.  I hate that I hold my breath for you to give me a nod, or a wink, or to walk by and hold my hand a second too long.  I hate that you know how much it matters to me.

 

I never realized how much you watched me, or how well you read me.  I wish that I didn't need you so much.  I wish I didn't know the way you look directly into my eyes and see everything.  I wish I didn't know how it felt to be the focus of your eyes and your questions.  I was surprised to find out how much you knew about me just by watching, since I had never revealed it, verbally or otherwise.  I wish I didn't see it in your eyes, how much I amuse you.  I wish I didn't know how well you could tell what I was thinking or feeling, more than anyone else has ever been able to.  I wish I didn't know that you feel about me the same way I feel about you.  I wish you didn't challenge me and excite me and make me laugh and laugh at me when I'm being funny or just unintentionally absurd.  I wish I didn't know how deeply you care for me.  I wish you hadn't been able to look at me and tell me, right at the moment that I thought I was staying strong and trying to be indifferent and standing firm, that I was fragile.  And you were right.

 

I wish that this connection was something I'd had with someone, anyone else.  I wish this didn't make me more lonely.  I wish I hadn't allowed myself that one hard, sobbing, lengthy cry.

 

More than all that, I wish you weren't with someone else.

 

like I said.

Slate article:  Evidence that prison doesn't deter crime

our kids.

Baltimore Sun article on a 17 yr old who died after being restrained in a youth facility.

 

This makes me so sad.  Maryland has consistently had problems with their juvenile facilities, and frequently one of the issues that is highlighted is staff training.  Several years back, the DOJ intervened and wrote a scathing report that Maryland has been scrambling to clean up since then. 

 

A high school diploma is all that's required to work at these facilities, plus some training when hired.  I think what no one is willing to point out is that there are people in corrections who are just one conviction away from being just like the clients they serve.  They come from the same backgrounds and have similar behaviors and solve problems the same way - with violence.  Others are interested in a law enforcement career - cops on the make.  It never ceases to anger me, the utter lack of services or desire to provide services to incarcerated kids and adults. The U.S. has the highest rate of incarceration of any developed country, and in this country, society wants to see you convicted and / or incarcerated and doesn't want to see you again.  I have clients who do a year in jail at a time for possessing cocaine.  The past 20 years of their life have been spent like this, a revolving jail door.  The cops know them, and when they need an easy collar, they just roll up, pat them down, and throw them in the car.  (I've had several officers admit this to me.)  How has this helped society at all?  This hasn't made us safer, has it?  Can you believe how many taxpayer dollars are spent incarcerating people for being drug addicts?  Why don't we throw alcoholics in jail?  Why don't we incarcerate people for using too much gas in their SUVs or people who don't recycle?  Those choices are most certainly affecting the quality of our lives.

 

We should be making juvenile facilities in particular a career path for people who are trained in social services, who are dedicated to serving juveniles' educational and emotional needs.  These are our children.  There may juveniles in custody who are beyond these levels of care and who may need to be in custody just because they really are a danger to society, but sitting on them until they die is not a solution to the problem.

prayers answered.

So I got a win.  It was a little baby victory, in the grand scheme of things, but a win that I really needed.  It made me feel competent.  It made me feel less overwhelmingly helpless.  It made me realize that maybe my job does matter, maybe I'm more than just a person who makes the judge and DA feel better about sending my client to jail.  Sometimes we actually win.

Best American essays

I'm digging into Best American Essays 2006 and came across this quote that I loved because it really does apply to all of life:

 

"I suppose the joy of finding an appreciative audience is better any day than some feeble notion of a destination."

- Poe Ballantine, 501 Minutes to Christ

burnout

It's that time again.  The time when I don't want to get out of bed, I can't stand to listen to my clients tell me one more bullshit story, I eat cheese and drink red wine like an addict consumes heroin, I won't answer phone calls because I don't have anything nice to say, and I'm pretty sure I haven't smiled in over a month.  If I did, it was fake.

 

I get along well with an attorney in my office who has an MSW (masters in social work) and since my undergrad degree is in social work, we talk about feelings, and debriefing, and our emotional investment in our jobs, etc.  Things that attorneys don't ever talk about, and that criminal defense attorneys should probably talk more about.  Today she told me two things that are very true. 

1. I expect too much from my clients. 

2. Good doctor, bad patient.  I can give help, and spend all of my time giving help to others, but you can't make me take help and I absolutely won't take it, damnit.

 

My clients, I think, have defeated me.  I have one client who was trying to snow me with some ridiculous story about why he was innocent, and I let him get about halfway through it before I told him it was disingenuous to try to claim innocence if he already signed a confession.  Why lie to your lawyer?  Why?  You spill your guts to the cops IN A HEARTBEAT.  And I'm not the one who beats you and arrests you and harasses you and instigates you with lewd, disgusting comments about what I'd do to your mother / daughter / sister.  If you tell me what happened, at least I know where the best defense will be.  If you try to come up with some alternate reality, then you don't have much of a defense, because you're the only person in the world who's singing that tune.  All the witnesses, the police officer, the DNA evidence, the medical records - those will flush you out.  The signed confession?  Yeah... you say it's not a confession because it only said that you were sorry, that you'd been arrested for it before, and that you might have done it this time but you'll never do it again... that, my friend, is a confession.  Don't let the police trick you into thinking you were making a "statement" or that they'd "put in a good word" for ya.  They were lying.  Because they want you in jail.  I want you out of jail.  Making up some fantasy world is not going to help that happen. 

 

I had one client who spent 10 minutes telling me what happened, that he hit the guy because the guy gave him a nasty look, so of course he was going to engage in a high speed car chase, that's doesn't make the resulting car accident his fault, and he concluded with, "That's why I'm innocent."  His story pretty much made out every element of the crime, and when he asked, "So how does my case look?" and I answered honestly, I immediately regretted not lying to him.  He insulted my legal abilities, yadda yadda, telling me that he's on his own, because people like me don't like to fight cases, yadda yadda, I'm a crock of shit, etc. 

 

Sending me on a wild goose chase all over this state and the neighboring states looking for witnesses who will tell me how much you're a liar will not help your case.

 

Assuring me repeatedly that you know all these people who were witnesses and will corroborate your story and you can get me their info, only to later tell my investigator that you don't know any of those people because they were just bystanders, and actually there really was only one, and he wasn't there when it happened, will not help you win your case.

 

So today, I did a hearing with a client claiming actual innocence, and after hearing the cop testify, I pretty much threw in the towel, mentally.  The judge even yelled at me for litigating a case that was so clearly a loser.  When I told the judge that it is not my decision whether to take a plea or go to trial, he yelled, "Well it's someone's decision!"  Yeah.  Still not mine though.  After the hearing, I spoke quite harshly with my client, and I regret that, because it's not my place to be angry.  It's my place to give legal advice and perform legal functions.  I have to stop expecting so much from my clients, it's true.  I have to stop expecting that they won't be able to stay out of jail, that they'll call me when they say they will, that they'll come to the office when they say they will, that they will see how hard I work for them, that they understand that it is not in my power to dismiss cases, that fighting cases means coming back to court, over and over again, regardless of whether you are in jail or not. 

 

I don't think that's necessarily what the attorney meant when she said I expect too much from clients, but to some extent it's true.  I have to expect that my clients will not trust me.  I have to expect that my clients, when frustrated with bullshit cases, will take their frustration out on me, because I am the one advocate they have in the system.  I have to expect that the truth is always somewhere in between. 

 

I had a former client stop me on my way into court.  He's a teenager and was on his way out of the courthouse.  He said, 'Hey!  I remember you!  You defended me once!  I recognize your face.'  I didn't recognize him, so I asked his name, and his name rang a bell, but I couldn't remember his case.  I greeted him, asked him how he was doing, and teasingly asked him how he ended up back in court?  He assured me he was staying out of trouble, he just came back to support a friend.  The court officers shooed us out of the doorway, so we parted ways, but something about that interaction made me feel good.  Today, I covered a case for a coworker, and the client thanked me for fighting so hard for him.  I really was just doing my job.  I didn't do anything over and above the call of duty.  I made arguments that I believed had legal merit, the judge disagreed, I made my record, made my demands, cited my law, and went on my way.  He thanked me for fighting so hard for him.  I thanked him for being so kind, and then wondered to myself how it is that the people who receive the bulk of my time and energy would never even know it, and would never care even if they did.

except for the last line

I admit it, I am watching Shallow Hal.

 

The quote that fits me to a T:

 

I know what I am and I know what I'm not. I'm the girl who, you know, gets really good grades and who's not afraid to be funny. And I'm the girl who has a lot of friends who are boys and no boyfriends. I'm not beautiful, ok, and I never will be. And I'm fine with that.

From The Onion

Peyton Manning Looking Forward To Ninth Annual Super-Bowl-Watching Party

 

 

So-Called 'Genius' Bill Belichick Stumped By Non-Football-Related Question

 

desperately thinking happy thoughts

just trying to hang on.

Lake Tahoe

I had the unimaginable delight of spending some time in Tahoe recently. I'm not an outdoorsy girl, although I love being outside - and I'm certainly not a winter person. I hate snow and I hate when it touches me. But Tahoe won me over. The skies were clear, the air was clean and invigorating, and I felt so renewed and peaceful.

disgusted

I read this article in the LA Times via a link from Dahlia Lithwick's Slate article . 

 

It's truly, truly horrifying how much our government is extending and abusing its power.  I never thought I'd be a Libertarian, but no one else seems particularly concerned about the Bill of Rights, those silly technicalities.  So Libertarian Party, here I come.

 

(P.S.  Barack Obama, I love you.)

say it ain't so!

Turns out my client lied to me.

 

It was a valid defense - a critical one, actually.  This case is a slam dunk conviction that has mandatory jail time with it.  Since he's out on bail, a plea isn't really going to work, because the DA won't negotiate to another charge that isn't mandatory jail time. 

 

I spent an entire day hunting down some witnesses - one was moderately helpful and the other one totally blew my client's case out of the water.  Blew it out of the water, in that it became clear that my client was FULL OF SHIT.  And not only that, but he almost got some innocent bystanders in felony-level trouble. 

 

This client is not an ideal client.  He couldn't care less.  He never returns my phone calls, he sleeps in court, and when I ask him to step outside the courtroom with me he gets up, stretches, takes his time, yawns, steps outside, walks ever so slowly over to me, and just stares at me with this bored, "Why are you wasting my naptime?" look on his face. 

 

I swore I would never be the type of attorney who would yell at her clients, but since I broke that resolution about, oh, three months into the job, I think this guy is getting an earful from me.  I just wasted an entire day searching the ends of the Earth just to find someone (objective witnesses, nonetheless) who told me that my client made the whole thing up.  That's one less day I get to spend on trying to legitimately resolve his case, or any of my other client's cases, for that matter.

 

On the plus side, if my client doesn't care, maybe I can stop being so nervous and frantic and all "torch the ends of the earth" about this case.  I mean, think of all the uninterrupted sleep he can get in jail.

Love your Public Defender

The PD Blog Awards results are in.

*I received 'runner up' status in the Best Writing category (2 votes?).  I'm flattered.

 

Congrats, winners and runners up!   PD Stuff did a great job, taking on responsibility for creating and administering the awards.

we have a resolution!

In 2007, I will drink less.

 

(Not less as in fewer times a week - less as in, if you're giggly drunk after one bottle of wine, 4 pints of Stella is probably just going to hurt in the morning.)

Tada!

2007 really will be different.  Now the OC's been cancelled?  What's happening to my 'social' life?  Next you're gonna tell me that American Idol and So You Think You Can Dance are no longer.  [Actually, my favorite new show of all time is My Boys on TBS.  I was at a holiday party, discussing the Red Sox's decision to pay $51 mill just to negotiate with Matsuzaka with some friends.  A friend interrupted and said, You know who you remind me of?  That girl in My Boys.  So I started watching it and WHOA.  Way hooked.  It rocks.]

 

As for my own life... When did I become so passive?  So timid?  So afraid?  So risk-averse?

 

I've always been strong, forward-looking, assertive, and goal-oriented.  This is just such a weird stage, where I'm stuck between where I once was and where I want to be.  And where I want to be - is not where I want to be YET.  I want to be married, with kids, and a yard, and pets... I guess that's what's NEXT.  But that's not like getting a degree or entering the workforce.  It's not like I can just send out resumes or starting taking the GREs for that.  Besides, I want to travel and party and grow as a person before that next step.

 

I'm in the job that I want, but not exactly where I want to be personally, and it's hard to figure out how to change that.  I've joined social organizations, I've volunteered, nothing's really sticking.  Maybe there's nothing to be done, other than accepting the slower pace and having faith that these things will develop.

 

So, I never hid in my bed, despite the overwhelming desire to do so.  And despite the job uncertainty right now (am I staying or going?) my job is what keeps me grounded, and focused, and motivated.  Being back at work is good for my spirit.  I'm working, I'm going to the gym, I'm happy.  For today.

 

I'm also happy that the Pats are gonna wallop the Jets on Sunday.  Look for me - I'll be the rowdy girl with the pitcher of Bud Light and buffalo sauce on her face.

we're off to a great start

Today was a very, very bad day.

 

I'm desperately hoping that this is one of those 'bad dress rehearsal makes for an excellent opening night' things, because otherwise, you and I are going to have some serious problems, 2007. 

 

When I woke up this morning, I had no idea I was going to have such a monumental day.  When I woke up, I thought I was going to work, writing a motion, seeing some clients, having lunch, returning phone calls, and then coming home.  But an opportunity came up - I didn't even have to seek it out.  It was offered.  So I may be going to a different office.  My professional life was never the problem, although it's stressful - my problem was always my personal life.  But this change I think will be related to making positive changes in my personal life (it will cut one hour off my commute each way - that's 2 more hours a day I will have freed up) but the consequences of making the change could also be disastrous.  It's not certain that this change will happen.  Now I just have to wait and see where my life is taking me next.

 

I may not be getting out of bed tomorrow.

this is going to hurt.

I've spent some time thinking about what I want 2007 to be, who I want to be and what I want to do in 2007. Until today, I never really thought about what 2006 was.

Looking back on 2006, I think, "Ooof. That kind of hurt." I recall 2006 being a mostly difficult year. I think for a good part of the year I was depressed. The type of depressed where you spend an entire weekend in bed and when you interact with other people you manage to get through the whole interaction without ever feeling anything. I think for that reason, not a whole lot about 2006 comes to mind. I was wrestling with a lot of self-doubt about my professional competency. I felt lonely a lot. I really struggled to figure out my own path.

What I thought 2006 would be about is exploration, adventure, new and exciting experiences. I didn't know exactly what it would hold but I knew that it would be bright, and strong, and that the things I did in that year would be things that would lay the path for my future. Looking back today on 2006, I don't think it was any of those things. I wanted 2006 to be like that, and it wasn't, and I was disappointed that I couldn't figure out how to make it what I wanted it to be.

One weekend in 2006, my mother came to visit. Her visit made me want to crawl under the covers and not get up again. It wasn't my mom that was the problem - it was me. When she arrived, I shut down. It took me about a day to figure it out, but I realized that I hadn't quite accepted that this was my life. I hadn't quite dealt with the idea that this is really where I live, this is really where I work, this is where I sociaize. I had been coping with my anxiety about my own life by distancing myself from it, trying to pretend like it wasn't mine, or it wasn't significant, as though the whole thing would be over in a few months. But once I had to accomodate someone who insisted on seeing my life, and someone who was overwhelmingly excited about the life that I couldn't even tolerate acknowledging as reality, that's when I realized what I had been doing. And I thought to myself, That's fucked up. And as I write this now, it's still so upsetting to me that I think maybe I still haven't quite worked through it.

There were some really nice moments. There were some wonderful weddings. There were some fun weekends with friends. I was fortunate to develop some deeper friendships. I keep a journal, which I write it about once a month, and usually only when I'm forlorn. Unfortunately, that means a lot of the brighter moments get eclipsed. The baseball games, the drinks after work, the girls nights out, the long talks over coffee, the good days at work, the great days at work, the good moments with that one guy who is probably the worst guy that's ever happened to me, painting my room, cooking more, and every time that I got together in this city with my dearest friends from law school. There were some really good moments.

So if I had to categorize it, 2006 would go into the 'yeah, it sucked, glad that's over' category. What do I think 2007 will be? What do I want it to be? Well, if I knew the answers to those questions, I would've written that post instead of this one. I have no idea what 2007 will be like. I have no expectations for 2007 like I did for 2006. I'm ok with that.

Letter to Potential Suitor

I've got a glass of red wine down the hatch and I'm working on the second. So while I've got this warm feeling that I'm no doubt mistaking for honesty and the desire to be happy just the way I am, I think this is what you need to know.

I did the online dating thing briefly, so I'm not interested in kicking up an acquaintanceship over the internet. I prefer that the majority of our significant interactions happen in person, because when I did the internet dating thing, I had the same conversations over and over again with different guys and every time after we met in person it didn't work out. When I did speed dating that one time, I hit it off with that one guy that I never thought I'd like on paper, but after a conversation something sparked, and flickered into flames (until he ousted me).

I'm not trying to blow you off, I just don't want to have the same getting to know you conversations only to find that we're not really a good fit in the end. I like the idea that our connection can be based on conversations we have in person, and things that we do together. That's how my best friendships have developed, and I think relationships probably work the same way.

I feel lonely more often than I'd like to, but I've also grown too accustomed to having all of my time as my own. I enjoy having the autonomy of singlehood - I don't need to check with anyone before I do something, if I'm feeling off-kilter then I can take a weekend and just shut out the world, I don't have to worry about whether I am keeping up my end of the bargain. Not being in a relationship also means never having to fret about whether you like me as much as I like you, never having to wonder why such an amazing person would be interested in little old me, never having to worry about not being pretty enough or girly enough or funny enough or just ENOUGH, enough to keep your attention and your affection and your interest. Enough, to give you enough and be available enough to you and attend to you when you need it.

I'm afraid of dating anyone that I know I'll have to see again. I won't date anyone at work, or anywhere that I go regularly. That means once I know you well enough to like you, it's going to be uncomfortable, because then suddenly I'm in a situation so if it doesn't work out, then my day changes without you in it, and I have some regularly scheduled reminder of yet another dating failure.

Despite those shortcomings, I think that for the right person, I'm looking forward to having a lot of fun in shared activities, whatever they may be, and I'm looking forward to being attentive and flirty and supportive and thoughtful and doting and adventurous and committed to someone other than myself.

Chances are, we won't make it past the second date. But it's not you, it's me.

Unless it's you.

things are brighter

I've had friends tell me that I don't smile as much as I used to, that I don't seem to be having fun in life anymore, that I no longer seem inspired. It's true. I've wilted inside. I feel like I conduct my days on autopilot. I had a work nightmare on Christmas night. I do love my job, but more in theory than in practice. In practice I'm riddled with doubt and stress.

In the past, I've had a jobs working with at-risk youth, doing educational advising and mentoring. Recently an old boss got in touch with me and asked me to meet with a student who is currently in the program. We met today, and my whole world seems brighter. The jobs that I have loved most have been jobs where I've done advocacy work with juveniles in a non-courtroom setting. I recently saw a job posting that was actually a job description I had created, doing similar advocacy work with incarcerated juveniles, and it broke my heart to not jump on it. I feel like I have to be good at what I do now before I can move on. But you know what? It's a New Year, and my resolution is to work towards that job. That's what I want, that's what I love, and that one hour meeting with an inspiring and incredible young person made me realize that's what is missing from my life.

opening up to the people

I have a few New Year's resolutions, a few aspirations, and a few holdovers from years past. But I thought that maybe some of you out there might have some insight so I'm asking, What should my New Year's resolutions and aspirations be? What are yours? What are some good ones to keep in mind?

iTrain, iComplain

I've been doing the same workout for about 3 years now, and like all the fitness gurus tell you, it just starts to get old, and makes working out much more of a chore with much fewer results.  I've fallen off the workout bandwagon since I left law school.  I work out maybe 3 times a week, doing shorter workouts, and doing so reluctantly.  I've been looking for ways to jazz up my workout (usually via my music selection) but I just discovered something wonderful called iTrain.  It's a website where you can download workouts to your iPod, where someone coaches you through something you'd probably rather not do without someone bossing you around.

 

I tried it for the first time this morning and you know what?  It worked!  Well, it worked, until a little over halfway through it I started cursing Grace, the demon workout vixen.  Damn you with those inclines!!!  My heart felt like it was going to forcibly claw its way out of my chest so I cut out about halfway through.  As a plus, it's really motivated me to get back on the treadmill, which I've been avoiding in favor of the much easier elliptical for the past few months. 

 

So Grace, you saucy little bitch, I think we have a solid love-hate relationship in our future.  Looking forward to it!

 

 

discuss

Slate article on how conservative judges are activist-ly denying Seventh Amendment rights.

 

I bet you don't remember what the Seventh Amendment says, do you?  I'm not sure, to be honest, that I ever knew what it said before today.

whine

I think I've grown more as an attorney in the past week than I have in the past 3 months.

 

Whether the scheduling crunch is might fault or the court's, I cannot say.  But I had dozens of hearings and trials scheduled, and there is no mercy if the DA and the court are prepared to start.  For 72 straight hours, I spent every moment either in a hearing or starting a trial.  While I did one hearing after another, all I could think about was the trial.  For almost two weeks I was working 12 hour days and had to come in over the weekend.  I was only home to sleep.  That's the life of a public defender, I suppose but whew.  I was so exhausted by the time I was informed that there were no juries available this week that all I could feel was sweet relief, and then spent the rest of the week just trying to remain upright and muttering monosyllabic responses to people's questions.  For the past two days I've been counting down the minutes until I could go to bed and not wake up until Monday morning.

 

Now it's Saturday morning, and my body just can't let me sleep past 7:30 a.m.  Curses!

 

I'm going on vacation next Wednesday and not returning until after the New Year.  I'd be much more excited about the time off if I didn't have 4 motions due the day I got back.  That means work is coming on vacation with me.  Boo.

 

A lot of the cases I have currently are being litigated, as opposed to being resolved otherwise.  I can't figure out exactly why - maybe it's just the luck of the draw as far as cases go, or maybe I'm just getting better at calling BULLSHIT with the DA's offers, or maybe just more of my clients are out and able to fight their cases, as opposed to fighting from the inside.  But it is overwhelming to have a caseload so high if all of them require investigation and motions and hearings subpoenas and setting a trial date which means finding witnesses and maybe even prepping a few of them.  I'm still new at the trial stuff - it requires a different skill set than negotiating, and every time I prep a hearing or trial I realize how much I still don't know. 

 

This whole post is just a long way of saying, I'm really tired and suffering from my recurring case of, "If this type of work stresses me out this much does this mean that I was never meant for this job to begin with?  Am I just pretending to be a lawyer, when in reality I'm nothing but a hack?"

 

Maybe I was never meant to be a litigator.  Or maybe, litigators aren't born, they're made, and that being 'made' just comes with a lot of growing pains and an overwhelming caseload.

once

It's been a long time since I thought about you.  It took me a long time to stop thinking about you, at first.  Much too long.  Then day after day after month after month went by, and my day didn't include you or thoughts of you.  But then you insist on worming your way back in, sliding effortlessly back on the scene like you belonged here all along.  It was nice of you to think of me, when that came up, and to let me know about it.  A friendly hello, you might be interested to know... 

 

With the passing of time, seeing your name only brought up a small flutter inside, not the wild somersaults on my insides that you used to elicit.  I didn't think it caused more than a ripple in my day until I started dreaming.  The dream wasn't of you, per se, but it was reminiscent of you, because it was about the unique variety of feelings that I had about you.  I have the emotional hangover of those dreams today, which have again become the remnants of the feelings I had for you once, and maybe still, or maybe yet again.

sweet!

Red Sox sign JD Drew

Another round at the Supreme Court.

Dahlia Lithwick's Dispatches from the Supreme Court, from today's affirmative action cases.

 

It's interesting to me to think about other areas of law, now that I've promptly forgotten most of them.  I can't even remember the levels of scrutiny for 14th Amendment violations anymore.  I wonder now what the heck the Supreme Court is doing, again, with these race / school cases, again.  Another round with no real indication of what the right thing is to do.  My own suggestion, if we're looking at distributing, is to examine a redistribution based on socio-economic standing, which I suspect may be a much more important distinction when it comes to education.  And, it's not a protected class, so no 14th Amendment violations.  You can discriminate against poor or rich people all you want!

 

Ah, I yearn for the days when I listened to oral arguments as soon as they came out; sat by my computer waiting to read released court opinions; was up to date on all the latest blawgs.  There is no law in what I do, day to day.  I miss the critical thinking and analyzing the rules and making reasoned arguments.  Mostly, I just beg.

 

As an aside, I have decided that one of my most unattainable goals in life is to be on Slate - either as an author or as a subject (in a good way, not in like a Paris&Britney, OJ type way).  My God, I worship that webzine.

few and far between

Today I had a DA do something very favorable for my client, not because he had to, but because it was the RIGHT thing to do.  The DA agreed to give me the disposition I needed on the basis of what I believe to be a compelling social justice argument.  Since I spend most of my time railing against the fascist prosecutorial techniques of my adversaries, I think it's only appropriate to share with everyone when a DA does something really good for the sake of doing what's right, instead of going for what would have been a slam-dunk conviction.

 

Thank you, DA.  You have my utmost respect, and for this case, my deepest and most sincere appreciation.

here I am!

An updated on my previous post:  Thanks to Sanchovilla's excellent investigative advice and guidance, I uncovered some family information for my client, and they are going to try to make burial arrangements for him.  I was nervous about being the one to break the news to his family, but I was delighted that I was able to contact them.  It was a nice way to begin Thanksgiving.

 

I'm still going back and forth about the volunteer thing - I had made up my mind not to, but now I'm fully back in the "I'm going to do this" camp.  We'll see how it turns out.  I don't start until after the holidays. 

 

Going home for the holidays always leaves me feeling unsettled.  It's always great to see family and friends again.  But sometimes I feel like I'm knocked off-kilter.  I'm not sure what it is - I guess I get confused about where the right place is for me to be, and I can't be in both places.  I'm slowly getting accustomed to being in both places though - maintaining a life in my hometown with friends I've known for years, and maintaining a life in my new town (well, not so new... over a year now!) while developing as a grown-up in both.  What an awkward transitional phase, this whole growing-up thing.  I don't like the idea that some things can be outgrown.  I prefer that other aspects of my life would develop along with me, but if it means that I have to drag these things kicking and screaming, I wonder sometimes if it's the right thing to do.

 

No new men, alas.  No men at all, really.  The on-again, off-again guy is blowing ME off, for the first time in our one-year acquaintance, and it's driving me nuts.  I've always been here for his booty calls even when I didn't want to be a booty call, and now that I'm making the calls he's not answering.  That is SO UNFAIR.

 

I'm attending my first blog party over at Stay of Execution.  Are you going?

conflicted.

1. I find my life to be unfulfilling. Now what?

2. There are things I used to love being involved in and am trying to get back into. I have applied to volunteer in a hospital to read bedtime stories to kids and to do projects and play games with kids who cannot leave their beds. I was very excited about this position and had been looking forward to being involved in it for some time. Finally, this past week I had one of those state holidays that's not a holiday for anyone else in the private sector, and went in for an interview.

I knew the hospital was in an undesirable part of town, but nothing prepared me for the reality of it. The neighborhood is one of the most dangerous in the city, which makes it no doubt one of the most dangerous in the country. Making my way to the hospital in broad daylight felt rather unsafe. When I got to the hospital, I was put in a glorified storage closet and told to wait. I waited. and waited. When the volunteer coordinator arrived, she asked why I hadn't filled out the forms I was supposed to fill out and said, "Didn't you tell anyone you were here?" I was not only put off by the location of the hospital and the location of my wait, I was quite put off by the implication that I just decided to wander into the broom closet and was content to stay there without alerting anyone to my presence.

In the hour it took me to get to the hospital (much longer than I thought it would be, which is one strike against this), and in the additional 20 minutes I waited in the broom closet, I had pretty much decided that this wasn't going to be the opportunity for me. Once I sat down with the coordinator in her office, I started to soften a bit. There was a large library of books in great condition, and many of the books had several copies so we can give them to kids who particularly enjoy them. The programs seem to be very well coordinated, and there are many programs available just in the pediatric ward alone. Hmmm, I thought, too bad I don't think I'll ever make it back here without a gunshot wound.

Then the coordinator asked how I heard about the opportunity. When I told her that I heard about it from a volunteer website, she exclaimed, "Wow, that's great. You know, no one ever follows through with that website. We get hundreds of inquiries and some people even come in for interviews but no one ever ends up working here. No one ever follows through." My reaction, instead of being a rational "Why the hell don't you think people want to come out here?!?!" was to bristle defensively and become more steadfast in my desire to volunteer there. I almost felt like I had to prove that I really was interested in the work. I considered her statement a challenge, and I don't back down from challenges.

So now I'm signed up for an orientation and have some medical paperwork that I have to take to my own GP (which I do not have, I only go to a gyno, so now I have to find my own doctor in my own hospital and make an appointment). And now I can't decide what to do. Absolutely everyone has told me to steer clear and not to even think about wandering back and forth, via public transportation and walking, at night, by myself, to do this. I would never, ever, ever recommend that someone else do it either. Part of me wants to never go back to that hospital, and part of me invokes idealistic forgetfulness in order to consider going back. I'm conflicted about what I should do. Perhaps I'll just go back for the orientation and decide from there. Perhaps I'll start packin' a piece. (Just kidding. Hugs not guns.)

I just don't know what to do. I hate to walk away from this opportunity, particularly since I think these communities are precisely the ones that need good volunteers. On the other hand, I think there is a very good chance that I will be at least mugged repeatedly, if not raped / stabbed / shot. However, I REALLY don't like to admit fear or defeat in the face of socio-economically plagued communities. I like to delude myself into thinking that I'm somehow above that, that somehow my good spirit will protect me from harm.

3. I recently received a mysterious phone message from corrections. When I returned the call, the captain informed me that a client of mine, who I didn't have a lot of contact with but whom I remembered, died in custody. He was doing a jail bid on the plea he had taken while I represented him and died in jail. He was in his early to mid 40s. The cause of death was a brain aneurysm. He had no next of kin. I tapped my connections in programs that I knew he had been in to see if they had any info about family members. Nothing. He had no family, just a prior address of a homeless shelter. He will be disposed of, courtesy of the government, in some anonymous manner if no one comes forward in 6 weeks.

I've had clients die before, but I've never had clients die so anonymously. I'm trying to figure out what to do. I was thinking about making a food donation to the homeless shelter in his name, but the bureaucracy involved in this process seems prohibitive. I was thinking of trying to put flowers on his grave, but it seems that's not quite how things work when the government's responsible for your body. I would really like to do something to make sure that he doesn't just disappear, forgotten forever. My newest thought was to get a plant for my office and put a little planter stick in it, bearing his name. I'm sure no one would like to be remembered via a plant in a public defender's office, but there's nowhere to plant trees around here. Does anyone have any other suggestions?

4. Happy Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday because it is a weekend dedicated solely to family (of origin, and of choice) and eating. Awesome.

this ain't the suburbs

Recently I was enduring my lengthy commute home, with a soundtrack courtesy of my iPod. A woman got on and sat in the seat next to me. There were a fair number of people, as it was on the later end of the rush hour. She looked like she was coming from work, as she appeared dressed for work and was carrying a work-related object with her.

Just a few minutes later, through my iPod, I hear this woman grumble loudly, "Where's the KKK when you need them?"

I looked around in alarm. Did she really say that? I must have been mistaken. She said nothing else. No one else was looking around or saying anything. There's no way she said that.

Further toward the back, a group of teenage girls (who happened to be African-American) were singing songs to pass the time. They were singing them loudly.

The woman plugs her ears dramatically and starts yelling, "Can I use your walkman? I need a walkman. Can I use yours? I need to move out of this fucking country. I can't stand this fucking country anymore. Too many blacks."

I continue to ignore her because I'm pretty sure she's about to get shivved, and I don't want to be stabbed as a potential supporter of this crazy woman. I am also now incredibly disgusted and angered by the fact that she probably did, indeed, say exactly what I thought she said earlier. Should I get up and walk away? Just a few more minutes home, and I have to climb over her to get out.

"Stop looking at me! Stop looking at me, you dirty Mexican! I don't date your kind! I only date whites!" she starts yelling to the harmless Latino guy minding his own business across the aisle. Another guy, who looks Latino, looks over at her and she says very politely, "No, I don't mean you. I'm talking to that guy. I need to get out of this country." He asks her, "What country are you from?" to which she responds, "I'm from Spain and Colombia. But everyone thinks I'm Puerto Rican," she snorted in disgust. [I seriously doubt that she's ever set foot in any of those countries, particularly since she has a pretty thick local accent.]

And then she continues. "Why do these black and Mexican guys always look at me? Is it because I'm ugly? Is that why the ugly guys stare at me and want to ask me out? Am I ugly?" The not-the-dirty-Mexican guy says very nicely back to her, "No. You're not ugly. You are very pretty." And by this time, I had vaulted out of my seat and got myself far, far away from this scene that everyone was listening to.

I still can't decide whether she was just a normal type of crazy - that is, a woman on her way home from work who is just fed up and can't deal with city living so she starts spewing her innermost racist beliefs... or if she was actually crazy, like schizophrenic and not racist.

on being a public defender: brinkmanship

I spend most of my day, every day, approximately half a second away from tackling a DA, screaming "Who's the tough guy now?  Huh?  How do you like that?  Still a tough guy with my knee pinning your chest cavity to the floor??" 

 

On paper?  Today was a good day.  In reality?  I spent every single moment seething.  Annoyance, frustration, intolerance was just seeping out of my pores. 

 

I spend a lot of days teetering on the brink of destruction.  It's not that the DAs always give rise to the most frustrating parts of the day.  Then there are the judges, the corrections officers, other attorneys, and a myriad of people who, when confronted with a livid WOTL who is desperately trying not to tackle and pin, pretend like it's not their job to help me.  It's always someone else's fault.  Mmmm, sorry I can't lower that offer.  Boss won't let me.  Sorry I can't lower that bail.  Sorry I can't suppress that evidence.  Sorry I can't help but call your client demeaning names in a way that I think makes me look hilarious / authoritative. 

 

Ok, so really, it's not even dealing with difficult individuals that makes this job hard. Working with people is the easy part.  Living with yourself is the hard part. The problem with being a public defender is that when you get a good result, you think it's inevitable.  Like, ok, yeah, that worked out well, but that's because it SHOULD have.  That's what was just, that was the right thing to do under the circumstances.  But when things go poorly, it's your fault or your responsibility to fix it.  And that's where the stress comes in.  How am I supposed to fix this?  How do I get this guy out of jail now that he's in on a crazy amount of bail?  How do I keep my client out of jail after he absconded from his mandated jail-alternative program?  How can I prevent my clients' lives from being permanently destroyed today? 

 

So it's not really the DAs, or the judges, or the officers.  It's really the burden of knowing that YOU HAVE TO FIX IT, and knowing that you probably won't be able to.  It's the burden of going to sleep with that client on your mind, trying to figure any way out, and waking up the next morning as though you never slept or left the office, still trying to figure out how to make it better.  It's the burden of seeing that flashing light on the phone, or the letters in the mailbox, or the email icon waiting to be answered, and feeling like you can't possibly bear to listen to the messages or read the mail because you just don't have the answers.

 

And when these things happen in a single day, every day, one day after the next, it's remarkable that I have yet to snap with a swift reactive tackle / throttle / pin, screaming "TELL ME I'M PRETTY!"  But a girl can dream.

there's still hope

Damn.  I had my money on the Tigers.  I thought it would be no contest.

I am so finished with men

Jerks.  Nice guys.  Boring guys.  Awkward guys.  Super sweet guys.  Slick guys.  Horny guys.  Uncouth guys.  Guys I work with. 

 

All of them.  I'm done with all of them.

 

I officially 100% throw in the towel.  I am dying alone.

on being a public defender: killing me softly.

I'm struggling with the blogging lately.  I'm either too upset or too angry when I get home from work to write, or to write anything worth reading.  Or I'm too tired from being angry and upset to do anything more than zone out in front of the TV with a cup of tea.

 

Being a public defender is hard.  I never anticipated the toll this work would take.  I knew it was going to be difficult, and tiring, and demoralizing.  For a long time I was leaving work every day feeling unfulfilled, even bored.  It's not that I didn't have a lot of work to do, it's that I lost motivation for a little while somehow.  I felt like my day had become routine.  Go to court. Speak to clients.  Get yelled at by some of them. Take pleas on most of them.  Eat lunch.  Back to court or sit at desk and return phone calls.  Go home.  But then things got much better.  I rediscovered my zeal, my enjoyment, my reasons for making this my life's work.  However, there are other difficulties.

 

My supervisor and I don't get along.  I feared this would become a problem but tried very hard to keep in mind what compromises it would take on my part to ensure a smooth working relationship.  It's been a miserable failure.  About 2/3 of the time, we're ok; the other 1/3 of the time he makes me feel as though I'm a useless idiot.  I internalize it - the way he speaks to me, particularly in contrast to the way he speaks to the attorneys with whom he gets along well; I internalize how he says things ("I know you work hard" versus "I know you're a good attorney."  I will never hear the latter from him); I internalize his dismissiveness.  Today, I was recounting my single proudest moment thus far in my work as a public defender (nothing brilliant or innovative, just something that made me feel good) and when we got around to talking about the law of it, I made a comment about how incredibly sleazy the police were and he lit into me.  Like he has never lit into me before.  He screamed at me for about 15 seconds about how caselaw says otherwise, I always think I'm right but just because I don't agree with it doesn't mean it's the law, I should read up on my caselaw, I don't have to take his word for it since I clearly don't believe him.  I was completely dumbfounded.  All I could say on my way out of the office was, "I just wanted to tell you what happened, and how happy I am that things turned out the way they did."  I'm not sure what it was that triggered him.  I'm not sure if it was what I said, how I said it, or my failure to respond appropriately to something he said.  I can't figure it out.  What I do know is that it really put a damper on my proudest moment.  Things like this happen once or twice a month.  I spend two weeks avoiding him completely because I cannot even tolerate the way he makes me feel, and then just when I take a deep breath, straighten my shoulders, and try again, something happens that makes me recoil for another two weeks. 

 

Incidents like that just add to the already overwhelming stress that I'm a PD discussed some time ago.  Every day I'm afraid that I'm horrible at what I do.  Every day I have to fight off the sneaking suspicion that I cannot do this work the way it is supposed to be done, or that I look like an idiot, or that my clients / the judges / my supervisor have no confidence in my ability.  I'm blessed to have coworkers, court officers in courtrooms that I don't even practice in, private defense attorneys, and DAs come up to me and compliment me over the course of the year.  I would expect that would make me feel better.  But it's just the opposite.  When people say something unexpectedly complimentary, all I can do is smile uncomfortably and think, "But that's because you don't REALLY know how I am. If you really knew me as an attorney, you'd think I was a disgrace."

 

The anger and the anxiety and the sadness just build up inside until I randomly burst into tears.  I never know when it's going to happen or what exactly will trigger it, but I've been crying embarrassingly frequently.  At the bar after a few drinks, I cried uncontrollably for about half an hour.  Still not quite sure why.  I cry in my office at least once a week.  At least every other week, someone walks in on me sobbing.  I get so angry that at the end of the day I have to have several glasses of wine just to stop shaking.  My professional life leaves me so full of anger and frustration that it has decimated my personal life.  I can't leave work behind; I can't separate the resonating anger and sadness of work from my home, my friends, my weekends.

 

For these reasons and many others, this job has sucked the soul out of me.  And it's only been a year.

 

And yet, I can't imagine wanting to do anything else.

 

But let me take this little space right here to say, in regards to my proudest moment ever, with the biggest smile I can shine - I stuck it to The Man.  I stuck it to him good. 

violent stingrays!

Stingray attacks again!  This time, the sucker jumped into the boat and stabbed a guy in the boat. 

 

I think it's clear that we need to start embarking on a little bit of aquatic profiling.  All stingrays are bad and violent.  If you see one on the sidewalk, cross the street.  Stay away from predominantly stingray 'hoods, especially after dark.  Stingrays probably have algae or pointing tails on them at all times, so be sure to preemptively search, disarm, or kill them.

 

I think the death penalty will be an effective stingray violence deterrent.

torture

I've gone out the past 4 nights. Today, I'm coming down with a cold. I just drank tea, finished the Sunday paper, and watched a movie on my couch in my baggiest sweatpants. Oh, how I've been looking forward to going to bed with a book.

Seconds after I climbed into bed, a car alarm started up. It emulates the sound of water dripping into a pot full of water. (I know this because we have a leaky faucet, and I left a pot filled with soapy water in the sink).

Bink. Bink. Bink. Bink.

Dear God, make it stop.

Update: I never thought I'd look forward to the Jeep car alarm that goes off every 45 min or so for 3 minutes each time, every single night all through the night. But when it went off it was a nice distraction from this Bink. Bink. Bink. 45 minutes now.

some more interesting queries.

"I'm a really bad person"

 

"dating when is it ok to call him"

 

"I need a pair of shoes."

 

"hells piercing"

 

"german shepherds deterring murderers"

 

"pocketbook and a full moon"

 

"damn the government"

 

"the benefits of being a public defender"

 

"I feel my co worker is attracted to me"

 

"law answers"

 

"pantyhose judo"  (seriously.  again?)

 

"forgot underwear"  (been there.)

 

"why does my girlfriend want to take a break and always we get back together 3 times now" (run.)

 

"does law pay"  (well crime doesn't, so law must.)

I'm THIS close...

... to changing baseball loyalties.

 

Red Sox let Papa Jack and Dave Wallace go!

Happy New Supreme Court Term Day!

Coverage:

 

Yahoo

 

How Appealing

 

SCOTUSblog

 

Washington Post

 

*Inspirational article:  From Inmate to Mentor

 

 

If you cannot afford an attorney... prove it.

A friend of mine sent along this link yesterday.

Arrrrrr.

Happy National Talk Like a Pirate Day.

you know you have a pathetic social life when

The highlight of my night last night was when I sat in David Ortiz's lap, he pulled me in close to him, snuggled into a hug, and said in that DR accent of his, "We're very good friends.  If not more." 

 

So what if it was just a dream?

argh

this job makes me SO. ANGRY.

today's news.

From the Washington Post:

 

Civil verdict in false confession case

 

Pollutants create female characteristics in male bass - save the environment, folks!

Baltimore Sun article on the death penalty in the Baltimore area.

oops.

So, Perplexing #2 and I had another go-round.  It started off well enough - didn't end too well.  Like a good lapsed Catholic, I'm having a huge guilt attack.  I'm kind of ashamed of my behavior.  I flirted with lots of other people.  (one of whom seemed to think that it's ok for friends to kiss on the lips?  I went in for the cheek and he derailed me!) That was just one little guilt nugget.  Anyway:

 

Coworker Jack:  "Damn.  You totally Big-Leagued him."

Me:  "Big-Leagued?  Is that good or bad?  Oh God.  I feel terrible.  I should go find him in court today and apologize."

Jack:  "Nooooooo.  No no no.  Just buy him a drink the next time you see him at the bar.  Us guys get over things like that pretty quickly if we think we have a shot of getting laid.  It's just who we are."

Justice?

Did anyone catch that new show Justice last night?

It was so fake that I'm not sure I can stand to watch it. But I'll
definitely have to watch at least a few more episodes... you know,
just to see if I like it.

Perplexing: 3 & 4, of 4

#3:

I was working a full day in court.  I had been spending a lot of time in that courtroom, so I became buddy buddy with the court staff that week.  There was one officer in particular that I rely on to change my clients from the "not ready to see the judge" to "ready to see the judge" status.  Essentially, I rely on him so heavily to make my job happen that he could REALLY make or break my day. 

 

He and I get along well.  I am not in any way attracted to him, but he makes me laugh, and he definitely makes work more enjoyable.  He's middle-aged, married, children.  This court officer had mentioned that we should lunch together.  I always lunch with my coworkers, because it's valuable time to pick their brains and benefit from their years of experience.  I didn't think much of it, because it's not uncommon for court officers and attorneys to lunch together. 

 

But something changed... he was doing a lot of, um, TOUCHING me.  Rubbing my arm, my back, petting my hair, etc.  To make a short story long, I started avoiding him and he kept getting more passive aggressive with me.  It made me nervous, that I rely so heavily on him in order to get my work done, and he was clearly not pleased with me.  Things were awkward, until we had a confrontation. 

 

"I don't see what the problem is," he hissed several days later, as I passed him in court.  The way the officer reacted made me believe that I made the right decision.  There was definitely something weird. I was being super friendly to him, because I could tell that he was not happy with me.  "I just wanted to have lunch, that's all.  I don't like eating lunch with all those other people.  It could have been just the two of us."  When I left court that day, I think we were ok.  He asked me for a kiss on the cheek, and I reluctantly complied.

 

Coworker Jack snorted in disgust when I told him about it afterwards.  "You don't want to hang out with him but then you stick your tongue down his throat?  No wonder you're having creepy guy problems.  I don't feel bad for you."

 

#4:

Way back in February, one night at a bar, I was hard-core macking on a guy that I thought was totally hot.  We chatted for a good part of the night, on and off.  I was really, really hitting on him.  It was messy.  I was messy.  Anyway, several times, he patted me on the head.  Yes that's right.  He PATTED MY HEAD.  How patronizing!

 

I saw him again recently and mentioned to a friend that I thought he was hot.  My friend, on a later date and unbeknownst to me, told him that I thought he was hot.  What does he say?  "Whose your friend?  Her?  Yeah, I'm single. Tell her to come up and talk to me sometime."

 

I saw him shortly thereafter, and then my friend disclosed the aforementioned conversation.  So I caught this guy looking at me a few times, but I just walked out in disgust.  Yeah, you're hot.  But you know what?  I hit on you once and you PATTED MY HEAD.  I'm so over it.

__________________________________________________________________

Anyhow.

 

One commenter asks, What's the big deal?  Well, there's isn't really a big deal.  I'm just sort of annoyed.  I've had a pretty good summer, once I went through the withdrawal of dating anxiety.  At some point, I guess I came to rely on having men drama in my life.  On Memorial Day, I finally resolved to just STOP.  Just take a break.  Get all the bad vibes out of my system.  Get my head on straight.  Reach some sort of emotional equilibrium.  Enjoy myself.  And you know what?  It worked.  I had a fun summer.  I hung out with friends.  I went to baseball games.  I took some time off.  I read books.  I watched movies.  I hung out with my roommate and the dog.  I spent a lot of time outdoors.  And I really, really enjoyed it.

 

Perplexing #s 1-4 all happened in the SAME WEEK.  I started wondering, is it me?  Is it something I did?  Did I somehow do something that makes people think I'm in love with them?  What am I doing that's so inappropriate?  Am I doomed to lead a life of awkward interactions like these?  And what about #2?  Was I wrong?  Or was he actually interested in me?  Why didn't he come back?  Did something come up, or did he never give it a second thought?  What the fuck is #4's problem?  Is this change of heart a mere ploy to get some action?  How could it be anything more than that?  There can't be any genuine interest.  What am I supposed to do next time I see #1? 

 

The only reason I wrote about all of these things is because I was annoyed.  I managed to have a good couple of months and straighten myself out, without any of this weird anxiety.  Suddenly four people interfered with my chaos- and anxiety-free emotional state.  It was uninvited.  And suddenly I found myself doing exactly what made me take a break to begin with - I began analyzing, fretting, worrying, examining, thinking.  I was knocked off my wagon of emotional peace and contentment, and I don't like it one bit.

fever pitch, indeed.

The Red Sox are all banged up.

from fake to nonexistent

There's a new trend now.  Clients and other ignorant folk used to be hatin' on the PDs by insinuating that we were not real attorneys (um, if I'm a fake attorney, are my law school loans and bar review loans fake too?  Because that would totally ROCK... no more payments on those 'fake' loans!  haha!) 

 

Recently, however, I've encountered a new development.  It's happened enough that I just have to rant.  The conversation goes something like this.

 

Fake attorney [me]:  I see you have an open case.  That was pretty recent.  Who represents you on that case?

Client:  No one.

Me:  Well, someone represented you.

Client:  No, I didn't have a lawyer.

Me:  Yes you did.

Client:  No, I didn't.

Me:  Yes you did.

Client:  No, I didn't have no attorney, I'm telling you!

Me:  Ok.  So let me get this straight.  On the last court date, you were in this courtroom, right?

Client:  Yeah.

Me:  And you went out in front of the judge, right?

Client:  Yeah.

Me:  You saw the judge, yes?

Client:  Yeah.

Me:  And when you saw the judge, there was someone standing next to you, right?

Client.  Yeah.

Me:  And that was the same person who was speaking to you in your cell just like I am now, right?

Client:  Yeah, yeah.  But that wasn't a lawyer, that was a public defender.

 

So I've gone from being not a 'real' lawyer to not being a lawyer at all.  Didn't have a lawyer?  YOU DIDN'T HAVE A LAWYER?  Who do you think got you out of jail just in time for you to get your ass arrested again?

 

Didn't have a lawyer.  Hmph. 

Perplexing: 2 of 4

The night before my awkward incident with Nick, I was at the same bar with all of my coworkers.  We were all enjoying a much-needed night out.  I went up to the bar to get myself another drink and had to delicately wedge myself between the bar, a chair, and another person.  That other person was a familiar face from around the area in which I work, but I didn't say anything.

 

His back was facing me when I approached the bar, but he turned to me as I was waiting to get the bartender's attention.  I saw him look at me for a moment and then he said, "The bartender's name is Rich."  [This was a different bartender from the one that asked me out.]  I was startled, and sort of stammered, because I knew the bartender, the bartender knew me, and I certainly frequented that bar more than this guy.  I can say that because I'm there often enough to know that he is not.

 

Rich looked over at me and called out, "Hey WOTL!  Another round?"  Indeed.

 

The guy at the bar told me I looked familiar, where did he know me from?  And at that moment I realized...  Ohhhhhhhhh.  Yes.  This is how these things start, right?  He was kind of sizing me up, wasn't he?  Turns out we sort of work together, remotely, in that he works in the courthouse and I work in the courthouse.  We struck up a conversation and chatted while I tried to look vivacious and fetching.  Not someone I'd seek out, but he seems relatively normal.  Looks like a regular good guy.  Not manicured, not flashy or fancy, just wearing sneakers and jeans and a decent shirt.  The conversation came easily and was enough to keep me interested.  Which left me with no other option than to leave.  [Right?  I've heard that hard-to-get is the most successful tactic.]

 

I wrapped up the conversation and returned to my table, where it had not escaped my coworkers notice that I was engaged in conversation with a male.  I shrugged, and played indifferent, but I was wondering, is he interested?  Is he single?  Would he take me out on a nice, normal date?  Will he come over and talk to me?

 

I walked over later when I realized he wasn't going to infiltrate the ranks of my office to talk to me.  We chatted again, again it was pleasant, and again I realized that I guess I should play it cool.  I spent the rest of the evening with my coworkers, this time trying to position myself in a way that would permit him to approach me if he wanted to, in a way that hopefully wouldn't make him uncomfortable or require him to be brazen.  Seeing that he wasn't going to come by again, I went over to let him know that I'd be leaving, and to say goodbye.

 

Then he asked me the question that made me really believe that he had some hint of interest in me.  "Will you be coming back next week?"  I said yeah, probably, at least for a little while. 

 

One week passes.  I go back to the bar, despite the fact that I have a bad cold, have gotten no sleep all week, and have to be at work early for a long day the next day.  I wear a cute outfit, I accessorize, I'm having a good hair day.  The only reason I went is because he asked me if I'd be there, and if he was going to show up, I wanted to make sure I was there.

 

He never showed.

Perplexing: 1 of 4.

I've been on a hiatus from dating since Memorial Day weekend.  I decided I need to stop and just shake off whatever vibes I had that were attracting troublesome men.  I have to say, it's been a pretty enjoyable summer without the stress of dating.  I got to July 4th and realized, wow, it's been a while, why not go all the way to Labor Day?  And with Labor Day approaching, it seems that I've almost made it.

 

I am at a loss to explain how it is, then, that I have attracted the attention of (almost) all the wrong men in the past two weeks. 

 

It started with my favorite bartender.  I love him.  I adore him.  Sometimes I stop in just to say hi.  He is a very bouncy, affable, friendly guy.  He has always remembered my name and what I drink.  I occassionally give him a hug, recently a kiss on the cheek.  My intentions were always platonic, since he's older and I assumed he was married.  I stopped by the bar to say hello to some coworkers but wanted to spend the afternoon shopping outside since it was so nice.  Nick offered me my regular drink, I declined.  Then he insisted on buying me a drink and offered all sorts of delicious frozen concoctions and, remembering my 'drinks with umbrellas' goal, I accepted.  I had two cocktails that tasted like pure magic and got me good and buzzed.  So I gave him a big hug and kiss on the cheek and thanked him for taking such good care of me.

 

He joked, "When are we going on a date, WOTL?" and I chuckled.  Realizing that he was looking at me for an answer, I hurriedly answered, "Sure Nick, we'll hang out sometime."  Then, attempting to change the subject, I said, "What are you up to this weekend, Nick?  Any big plans?"  Anyone else in their right mind would realize that this is the ABSOLUTE LAST THING you should ask as a follow-up question.  But I still thought he was joking.  He turned around and handed me a napkin.  Oh yes.  It was his phone number.  Shit.

 

My coworker Jack, who is my partner in crime at the office, just rolled his eyes when I went back to my seat, all flustered.  "You press your boobs right up against the man's chest and expect that he's not going to try to get some?  Maybe you should STOP MAKING OUT WITH HIM if you don't want him to hit on you."  True that.  Note to self.  Stop being friendly and affectionate to men, even in a platonic way.

 

Installments 2-4 to follow.

I am a real attorney.

I'm still new enough that some of the usual occupational hazards really get to me.  Like, the "public defender vs. REAL attorney" illusion.

 

I have a very difficult client.  He is young, with a level of teenage recklessness and disregard that would lead me to tackle him rather than take the stand in his own defense.  (I know, I know, it's his choice, I can't prohibit him from it, yes yes, blah blah blah, but all you PDs out there know that you secretly desire to glue some clients to the seat rather than let him/her take the stand).  This case was on the trial track and was transferred to me.  Ick. 

 

So, I have to prep this case.  Is it a good trial case?  Do I beg / plead / cajole the DA into making an acceptable offer?  Do I have everything I need in this file?  I try 3 times to meet my client.  He stands me up every time except the third time, when he waltzed into my office FOUR HOURS LATE with no phone call, explanation, anything.  Luckily, I was in the office that day and had the time to meet with him.  We sat together for over an hour, analyzing and discussing his case.  I think the police were pretty rotten to him.  I think they used excessive force.  I also, however, think the case is a loser for my client.  I think there is a very good chance of conviction, as the only witnesses in this case are two police officers. 

 

I discuss the current plea deal with my client and recommend he take it.  It's not bad, but not great.  He was supposed to call me and talk to me about it.  I call the DA and wrangle out a better deal.  Excellent.  Now I feel better about my legal opinion as to what course of action my client should take.  I think this is a very good plea offer, although I still think the cops are jerks.

 

Today I show up and tell my client what the new offer is.  I also tell my client that I called him and was disappointed that he did not return my call to discuss his case.  Then he tells me the news I love to hear on the day of trial after exerting this level of energy - he's waiting for his attorney to show up.  His parents decided to hire an attorney instead.  His attorney, he tells me, told him that I would be more than happy to give up his case because I don't have enough time to take care of my cases.

 

My jaw hit the floor.

 

It's one thing for a client to want to hire an attorney because they believe that.  I'm fine with that - you're right, I have a lot of cases, and if you can pay for an attorney, then you should.  However, I believe that the defense bar should be a little more respectful of my work ethic and professionalism.  To tell a client that I'm screwing him because I'm too busy with other things is not something I would ever expect from another attorney. 

...but am I a good PD?

I'm A PD wrote a post that leveled me. Her post made me realize exactly what it was about my job that made me feel so anxious. I've been feeling so insecure and always struggling with the belief that maybe deep down I'm not good at this job, or good for my clients, and I think I'm a PD hit the nail on the head here. There's no way to tell. There is no objective measure, or list of characteristics that make someone a good public defender. Which means that people like me, who have always received good grades and tested well and been on honor roll, etc. are left to flounder in our grey area of evaluating our performance.

I think her words say it best for me:

there's no objective way of measuring whether you are 'good' at doing your work. You expect to lose cases; you expect your clients to hate you and do an unreasonable amount of time; you expect judges to yell at you; you expect polite society to suspect that you are a naive enabler of evil in the world. What you don't expect is the sinking and persistent feeling that you are actually bad at what you do.

too much info.

Mother who used same sperm donor meet

 

I'm sure it's only a matter of time before this experience becomes my own.  Nevertheless, I think that these mothers' desire to know more about the sperm donor than they already do is just creepy.  I think it's ridiculous to call for regulations or for policies that share more extensive information about sperm donors.  Here's the deal.  If you want to know who your donor is, what his family is like, what he's like, what the medical issues are... then FIND HIM AND MARRY HIM.  Or at least, FIND HIM AND LET HIM IMPREGNATE YOU.  It seems silly to me to expect so much information from a venue such as a sperm bank.  Furthermore, there's never any way to tell whether your child is going to be perfect or not.  Whether your child's biological father is your husband, or ex, or a some guy you met at a costume party, or some guy you picked out of a catalog... conception is not risk-free.  Even if you pay good money for it.

today's news

ABA urges halt to signing statements

 "[T]he ABA voted to declare that it ``opposes, as contrary to the rule of law and our constitutional system of separation of powers, the misuse of presidential signing statements by claiming the authority . . . to disregard or decline to enforce all or part of a law the president has signed, or to interpret such a law in a manner inconsistent with the clear intent of Congress."

The ABA also urged Congress to pass legislation giving courts greater jurisdiction to review signing statements in which a president asserts that some parts of a bill unconstitutionally infringe on his executive powers and need not be obeyed. Senate Judiciary Committee chairman Arlen Specter, Republican of Pennsylvania, has already filed such a bill."

Maurice Clarett, the only athlete an antitrust attorney could ever name, was arrested again, this time with guns, while wearing a bulletproof vest.  Alas, how far he has fallen from the sterile spotlight of my antitrust textbook.

All your internet searches really are being scrutinized.

 

who's the reactionary?

I received the following comment from an adoring and loyal reader:

 

hey dumb ass, guess what, we have removed over 500 WMD's from Iraq. Have you been there? of course not.. you just want to run your liberal mouth, and put down everything about this country, while marines like me, fight and die, so that you have the freedom to do it. THANK GOD, BUSH HAS THE BALLS TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.

 

I feel compelled to respond.  I don't know what post this is in response to, because I just get them on my email, but I find the comment deliciously trite. 

 

Dumb ass.  That's "overeducated Dumb Ass, Esq." to you, buddy.

 

We have removed over 500 WMD's from Iraq.  Have you?  To be honest, I was unaware.  What do they look like?  What are they capable of doing?  I think it's fair to say that the US government might have made more of a deal about actually recovering the things they said they were going to find and never did.  Unless, by WMD's, you mean "guns."  In which case I can assure you that the streets of this country are a veritable war zone.

 

Have you been there?  of course not... you just want to run your liberal mouth  If the choice is a) go to Iraq and b) run my liberal mouth, then I'll choose B.  You apparently chose to do both.  Or maybe just the running the mouth bit - you're unclear as to whether you've been in Iraq either.  I support your right to choose, or not choose, as the case may be.

 

Furthermore, while I have never been in the service, I am a proud member of a family of military members.  You are my brother, my uncle, my father, my grandfather.  I've never been ashamed of my family's service to this country.  My family is in the conflict fighting overseas right next to you.  There is a difference between supporting my nation's decision to embark on such a significantly lethal path and supporting the troops.  I don't oppose you as a human being (well, I didn't before you were so rude - ) but I do believe that I'd rather our soldiers be somewhere else.

 

and put down everything about this country, while marines like me, fight and die so you have the freedom to do it    It's easy to walk around, screaming and twitching about people who put down everything about this country. "Put down everything about this country"?  You say that because I disagree with you, and I challenge you to identify examples of this assertion.  I don't believe that my country is perfect, but that does not mean I do not love my country.  I do not have to refrain from advocating changes in my country, my government, my society, or my community in order to love it.  That is where people like you become confused.  I gush on and on about the Constitution, the Bill of Rights, how I love them, how if I could fill my bathtub up with law and criminal procedure and swim in it, I would... come now.  I love this country.  I fight for it every single day.  You fight for this country with guns and force.  That's your thing.  I fight for this country by protecting people from the chaos and corruption and error in the legal system.  I fight for this country by making sure that the country does not tear from its citizens the cloak of freedom and civil liberty guaranteed by our founding fathers. 

 

Everyone has their own way of participating in their society, and the beautiful thing about our democracy is that we often exercise our rights without even noticing.  Everyone has a different way of defending freedom, and I defend freedom by literally keeping people free.  I've represented several dozen individuals who have either already fought for their country or are trying to enter the service but cannot because of their pending criminal case.  You know, all those poor and uneducated kids that the Army likes to recruit - I fight every day for their right to enter the Army and fight for their country.

 

THANK GOD BUSH HAS THE BALLS TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT  God has nothing to do with this war, but as a Bush supporter, that distinction would be lost on you.  As for Bush's balls, well, I'd suggest removing them from your mouth and advise you to get back to work, soldier.  The war is far from over.  There's a lot of work left to be done.  I wish you good health and your safe return from Iraq.  Or Nebraska.  Wherever you are.